


Always Get it Up for the Touch

by rivers_bend



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), Real Person Fiction, Tommy Ratliff (Musician)
Genre: Clothing Kink, Established Relationship, Humor, M/M, Masturbation, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-10
Updated: 2011-07-10
Packaged: 2017-10-21 05:32:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/221473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivers_bend/pseuds/rivers_bend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>There's a pile of shopping bags on the floor, a pile of clothes on the bed, and Adam, facing the mirrored closet doors, in a gorgeously fitting leather jacket and stacked-heel boots, his hand inside his tight black briefs. </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Always Get it Up for the Touch

**Author's Note:**

> The Obvious: I do not know any of the people whose public personas are used here, and neither believe nor mean to imply this actually happened.

It's been a long day and it's not even four o'clock yet, and Tommy's glad to be home. He gets that the other guys have lives and shit to do, but he's never going to get excited about ten a.m. rehearsals. He's just not. Especially when everyone else remembered to eat breakfast so didn't want to stop for lunch until like two. He was going to sit down and put his feet up, but Adam must be back from his shopping trip because the newly-installed house-wide stereo is blasting Rhianna's new single. The trouble with a music system that plays in every room of the house is he can't find Adam by following the music. He tries the kitchen, the living room, out back by the pool, and that's where he catches movement in their bedroom window. Maybe it's nap time. Tommy wouldn't mind some nap time.

Adam must have his iPod on shuffle, because Rhianna's followed by Gaga's demo of _Fever_. Tommy murmurs the words under his breath as he climbs the stairs. He's about to call out to Adam, ask how his day was, but when he sees what Adam's doing, he changes his mind.

There's a pile of shopping bags on the floor, a pile of clothes on the bed, and Adam, facing the mirrored closet doors, in a gorgeously fitting leather jacket and stacked-heel boots, his hand inside his tight black briefs.

For a moment it looks like Adam's practicing posing for a sexed-up photoshoot (it wouldn't be the first time), but then Tommy realizes that the movements of his hips and arms aren't about dancing. He's-- Tommy claps a hand over his mouth so that he doesn't laugh, or say, "Oh my god you're jerking off!" Because, yeah, it's kind of funny, but it's Adam, and therefore also really hot. Once the urge to laugh is gone, Tommy uses Gaga bashing on her piano to cover the sound of him sliding down the wall to settle on the floor in the hallway where he has a good view of Adam's profile. He hopes that because he can't see the mirror, he can't be seen.

The jacket Adam's wearing is cut high over his kidneys so Tommy has a great view of Adam's ass flexing, and the heels of his boots do great things to his legs (not that they really need the help), and his brain is happy to supply the view of Adam's cock slipping through the cuff of his fist which is currently blocked by both the angle and his underwear, and Tommy's petty irritations fade like they were never there.

Tommy's seen Adam get himself off many times, but it's always either been a cocky elaborate show, or a quick, efficient finishing off when Tommy's all wrung out and sated. This is a sort of middle ground between the two, and Tommy wonders if this is what Adam always looks like when he's alone. Well. Minus the leather, because Tommy's pretty sure he'd know by now if Adam had an actual leather _fetish_. (The leather kink though they're totally talking more about, because Tommy saw these motorcycle boots the other day and he would _rock_ them, and Adam does like to buy him presents...)

There's a second of silence between Fever and the next track, and in it Tommy catches the sweet-rough gasp that means Adam's close. Pavlov, blah blah, Tommy starts thinking about getting his own hand in his pants, but they just re-carpeted the hallways, and Adam's hand, still wet with his come, would be much better, so he just sits and watches as Adam's elbow moves faster, his ass clenches tighter. Whatever sounds he's making are drowned out by _We are the Champions_ , and Tommy almost laughs again, but he's just grinning and palming his dick through his jeans when Adam stumbles backwards the few steps to the bed, where he sits and turns his head to look out the bedroom door.

"Nice to see you too, Edward," he calls over the music, confusing Tommy for a moment before he remembers, oh yeah, that stalker vampire from Twilight.

"He climbed in her window," Tommy points out. "I just came home to my own house. Not the same thing at all." Pushing off the wall, Tommy stands and heads in to see what Adam bought. And maybe get a hand job if he's lucky.

Watching Tommy prowl toward him, dick half hard--and the direction of Adam's gaze, that point is definitely not lost on him--Adam reaches blindly for the house remote, turns down the music to background levels. "He only watched her sleep though," Adam says.

Tommy laughs--this is the most ridiculous argument ever--and squeezes between Adam's knees. "And I watched you wanking in front of the mirror. What was it? The jacket? The boots? Your hot-ass self?"

Adam rests his chin on Tommy's chest, looks up at him, but doesn't quite meet his eyes. "I was trying on clothes, and _Fever_ came on, and I just--" He grabs Tommy's ass and starts nibbling on his ribs through his t-shirt. It tickles and it hurts and it makes Tommy want to fuck Adam's mouth, and as distractions go it's pretty effective. Not that Tommy thinks they need to have a whole conversation about how hearing Fever makes Adam want to touch himself.

Knowing's pretty good though.

Tommy's arching his back, pressing into Adam's teeth, wondering if it's too soon to let his dick out of the confines of his jeans, when _We are the Champions_ ends and-- "Adam, what the fuck, is that _My Sharona_?"

He won't go so far as to say boner killer, but Tommy's definitely distracted again. And not in the good way.

Adam laughs, shaking his head, scaring Tommy a little until he realizes the clench of Adam's teeth is only on his tee and not his skin. "Fucking Neil," Adam says. "How is he a cockblock from like three-thousand miles away?"

"My cock is still here. Not blocked. Though if you have that remote handy still..."

"Never let my little brother make you a playlist," Adam says, but he's turning up the volume instead of getting rid of The Knack.

"Um," Tommy says. "Um--"

But Adam unzips him, hauls his junk out, and says, "If I can get off while my boyfriend plays creeper in the hall, you can get off to Sharona."

"You knew I was there?"

Adam rolls his eyes and puts Tommy's dick in his mouth.

Tommy doesn't, it turns out, get off to _My Sharona_. Good as Adam is at sucking dick, three-and-a-half minutes isn't long when Tommy can't stop giggling. The Doors are apparently not so amusing. At least not to Tommy. Adam finds it hilarious that Tommy comes while Jim Morrison sings about people being strange. Until Tommy reminds him what he was doing when Tommy got home, and he wisely decides to hold his tongue.


End file.
